Category: ontario

The Funz’ sea-blue period finds them ambling through shivering, shimmering shanties. These rimes of the ancient marine biologist bob in and out of whisper-soft washes like the earliest offerings of Akron/Family. Irish-Canadian arthouse imprint Wist Rec. sticks to its vision of bookshelf curios with the songs tucked inside a typically winsome watercolour zine.

There is something incredibly delicate at the core of the music made by LOOM, like the ache that follows falling in love or the floating feeling of falling out of it. Brooke Manning, who is the main songwriter and driving force of LOOM, released a quiet, swirling EP in 2009. It was recorded in her living room with Thom Gill as well as Dan and Matt Pencer who improvised behind the songs on subtle, sweet keyboards and horns. A meditative collection with a strong focus on songwriting, it laid the foundation for what would become her full length, Epyllion, recorded on Toronto Islands. Made up of new songs and reworked songs from her EP, Epyllion featured a heavier, darker side of LOOM brought out with tunnel-reverb harps, frightening, distortion soaked synths and, at times, war-like percussion. Since Epyllion’s release LOOM has expanded into a backing band with members of Silver Pools and Gates to work on a follow up. LOOM’s words, her slow ease into a vibe, create a settling. Sit and breathe.

Weird Canada asked Brooke to show us objects that she holds sacred. She allowed us into her Toronto home and showed us things nostalgic, painful and held dear, all of which contribute to the words and music made by her slow and gentle hand.

Feel free to listen to these two songs from Epyllion as you view these photos. All words were dictated by Brooke, recorded and transcribed by Brad Casey.

Sometimes if I’m feeling a block I sit with this for a while. It’s like a drone machine. I bought it at the Musideum in the Richmond building back in 2008. A friend also gave me another one in different key 5 months ago. I find them really nice to sing to.

Uninhibitors

When I’m writing, if I feel nervous, I have some smokables and some wine. I don’t have any wine right now but I drink it out of this cup.

Journals

If I’m having problems lyrically, which rarely happens, I flip through old journals and old books of poetry that I wrote. I try to channel what’s happening in that moment but sometimes if I’m wishing to speak about a certain moment or thing or cause or idea and I can’t get there I’ll go to my books.

Tinctures

Sometimes my anxiety gets in the way. It used to more when I was younger. I had a hard time performing knowing that someone was in my house, like my Mom or roommates, so I’d cloister myself in small spaces. Now things are better but when my anxiety comes back I take these tinctures and I swear they work. I know this older woman, she’s this amazing mystic, she makes this tulsi tincture for women.

Deaf Recordings

A teacher of mine gave me these tapes. They’re recordings of her daughter, who is deaf, just being around the house playing. They were part of a project she did and she thought I could use these. I grew up around a lot of deaf people because my parents worked at a school for the deaf. I went to kindergarten with a lot of deaf kids. I feel like there’s a different, more mindful way of listening to them. I use these tapes for inspiration. It’s good to hear that sense of silence when you’re trying to create something with sound.

Love Letters

This is a box of notes from friends, family, lovers and people who have deeply influenced me. Sometimes I look through it but very rarely.

Books

These are my favourite books. Sometimes I open it up and read a page and try to place myself on that page, with the idea. I try to envision what’s written about and it sets the tone for awareness in my body. It’s a great thing for visualizing.

Jar of Souls

This is something I’ve had since I started playing and I’d bring it to shows. I did this funny project where I’d ask people if they could imagine their soul as something in a vessel, what would it be? I put an ad on craigslist and I got people to send them to me, these pieces of paper, and held them for a year and cared for them. I was never allowed to open the vessels because the vessels would release the soul. I’ve never opened it.

Live Slow Knife

This was my Grandpa’s. Right before he died he was watching boats and I think he knew he was going to pass away. There a boat that kept travelling back and forth past the harbour and he would call me whenever he saw it and on the back it said ‘Live Slow.’ We had a lot of conversations then about what it meant to live slow and how he wished he had lived slower. Sometimes I lose it but it always gets sent back to me.

A trilogy of new tapes from the ever-present psychedelic fingers of Matthew “Doc” Dunn comes on strong in follow-up to the All Is LP. Released by the kind courtesy of his own Cosmic Range and soul brother #1 Ayal Senior’s Medusa Editions, these six suite-like sides flow through the expanding channels of Dunn’s endless rivers of psychedelic altruism, freaked out electronic primitivism, soulful lonesome folk, and spirit jazz grooving. A multi-instrumentalist at the top of his game, this trilogy expands on the promise his All Is and Tecumseh LPs demonstrated, and presents an elaborate auditory glimpse into the mindful capabilities of this alarmingly talented and worthy sonic journeyman. May these tapes fuel Dunn’s growing legend as a radical at the forefront of Canada’s underground like a gallon of gasoline on a campfire.

Room to breathe in Sandra Riley’s writing – slack action – a courtesy not often afforded. Not being one of two witnesses in love and domination, we are offered glimpses into elements of the unconscious all too familiar. Projection, rejection.

Questions regarding the productive nature of violence/docility. Who I am after you? Eventually only ghosted – thoughts, a voice, a presence long after.

Esther Grey could play the soundtrack to a medieval séance in a Bavarian forest. Haunting cave stomp drums and minor guitar stabs begin the ritual, as Steph Yates’ ethereal, eerie, effortless vocals create something otherworldly and infectious. Surf and rockabilly elements are incorporated throughout the first two tracks, but “Night Calls” cements Esther Grey’s sound as more baroque and carnivalesque than rock ’n roll. A true original, with songs sounding as old as the hills while still containing elements of some of their more daring contemporaries.

13 O’Clock Records, Austin’s psych-pop repository extraordinaire indulges us with something more than a one night stand. The Saffron Sect alternate between sultry open-ended jams and glittering hooks loaded with bait attractive enough to catch fish for days. Not just faithful rehashes of 50s, golden era pop/rock psychedelia, this 7” inch carves out its own trajectory. Fishing for a good time starts with throwing in your line.

Andrew Zukerman is a consistently strong individual force and significant presence among Toronto’s underground and experimental music communities. Whether it’s been with his many solo projects, or as part of the long-running cut-up sound-wrestling noise team Gastric Female Reflex, Zukerman has constantly developed his own definable style of compositional electronic music for over a decade now. Fleshtone Aura is Andrew’s most serious and vinyl heavy solo project to date, and this third record is not what anyone would have expected. Opposed to maximizing his hyperactive use of editing to micromanage recorded time and cram the listening experience with as many ideas, sounds and jarring effects as possible over a short period, this latest record is more about an absence of… well, nearly everything. Without quite fitting into the eternally yawning genre, Zukerman has made his equivalent of an ambient record, so far in that a nod to a modern master of the international chill-out scene Lieven Martens (aka Dolphins Into the Future) could not be avoided. This time around, it’s not so much about sound as the absence of sound. Zukerman has polarized his talent with this record, and set an extreme sound-barrier for himself far in the opposite direction he’s used to pushing himself in. For my minimalist leaning tastes, this is the best Fleshtone Aura record so far. Where he’s prone to packing out the playing field and keeping the action wild, this time around he’s cleared it of athletes, and punctured the ball.

More mindfucking than Captain Beefheart at his weirdest; noisier than the most ferocious No Wave; angrier than The Fugs confronting Nixon (“Destroy America! … Shit on Canada! … Boil Defanbaker!” screams Bill Exley on “Destroy the Nations”). No Record captures all the unspoken chaos of the ’60s and imposes itself on the listener so forcefully it leaves a permanent impression that falls short of the concept of taste. Terms like “good” and “bad” become useless as the Nihilist Spasm Band doesn’t give a damn if the audience is entertained or not. Be sure to check out the excellent liner notes by Weird Canada’s own Jesse Locke with contributions from Darcy Spidle (Divorce Records/Obey Convention), Sydney Koke (Shearing Pinx/The Courtneys), Man Made Hill, and more.

Located near the Manitoba-Ontario border is Poplar Hill, home to the Anishnaabe (Ojibway) Poplar Hill First Nation. Many of the children there attended the Poplar Hill Development School, an Indian Residential school that operated between 1962 and 1989. A quick Google search shows that many survivors have spoken openly about their experience, the good and the bad, but no one mentions the audio record of the experienced pain. To mark its tenth anniversary, the school released a 12-inch vinyl record called My Northern Home, which features fifteen recorded songs that had been sung by the children of Poplar Hill Development School between 1969 and 1972. Yet, as I scavenged for even a hint of information about its recordings or release, its existence seemed doubtful except for the fact that I had held the vinyl in my own two hands and heard it playback through my speakers as the needle took a plastic ride through history.

Of the fifteen songs, two were sung in Cree, a surprising feature considering the total suppression of Indigenous languages in residential schools, but even the Cree song “Down At The Cross” suggests a Western religious theme. If not exploring Christian teachings of Jesus Christ, the songs mentioned the land, the seasons or school life. As much as My Northern Home may feel like salt poured into open wounds, the powerful sound of these voices is an important learning experience to share. These songs eerily capture an oppressive past so distant, yet so near; they are acapella time capsules that run through the veins of Indigenous cultures and the current issues that echo so loudly.